Holding Their Own VII: Phoenix Star (13 page)

“Bishop?” the guard seemed surprised. “You’ve been in contact with Bishop and Terri?”

“Yes, sir. We left them in New Mexico this morning.”

Another sentry appeared, ambling along the opposite side of the flatbed, nodding and smiling at the curious faces that appeared over the railing. He scanned the passengers with a flashlight, focusing mostly on the assortment of luggage and personal effects. “Looks okay back here, Sid,” the guard called out.

“Do your people need water or emergency medical care?” Sid asked.

“No… no I think we’re all right. Tired, wind burned and hungry, but other than that I think everyone is fine.”

Sid produced a map, stepping up onto the big-rig’s running board and handing it to the driver. Cole scanned the document while the sentry explained. “We have a reception center to welcome new arrivals. We are a free society, operating under rule of law. You will receive help, food, shelter, and instructions at the center. Please don’t deviate from the route on the map. There’s been a little trouble lately, and our citizens are still nervous.”

Relief flushed through Cole’s frame – everything was just as Bishop had promised. “Thank you, sir. You have no idea what we’ve been through. This is like a dream come true.”

Sid nodded as several voices from the trailer echoed Cole’s words. After the gratitude settled down, Sid looked up at the
driver and said, “Could I have your name, sir? I’m sure my boss will want to talk to you about Bishop and Terri.”

“My name is Cole,” came the response. “Oh, and I have a note Bishop gave me to deliver to a man named Nick.”

Sid smiled knowingly. “I’m sure Nick is one of the first people you’ll meet in Alpha. Drive safely, and please don’t wander off that route.”

As he watched the truck roll past the checkpoint, Sid again keyed the radio. “Someone get Nick – the driver of this truck has a note from Bishop. They are on their way to the center; the driver’s name is Cole.”

“Will do,” came the response.

Nick was just finishing his supper when the radio on the kitchen counter squawked on the command frequency. “What now,” he mumbled to Diana as he pushed back from the table.

“What’s up,” he said gruffly into the microphone.

“There’s a truckload of refugees heading to the center. They just passed checkpoint Charlie. The driver, a man named Cole, claims to have a note for you – a note from Bishop.”

Nick’s eyebrows went north, the unexpected news causing him to smile for the first time all day. “Thanks. I’ll head over that way.”

Diana was already bending over to pull on her shoes, her expression showing excitement. “It’s like a letter from an old friend arriving in the mail,” she commented.

“I’m just relieved to hear they’re okay… at least well enough to send a note. Maybe they’re coming back.”

Alpha’s first couple wasted no time jumping into the electric golf cart parked outside the church’s front steps. As they sped along the dark streets, Diana couldn’t help but be optimistic. “I hope he mentioned how Hunter was doing. I hate it that I didn’t get much cuddle time with that baby before they left.”

“Don’t expect pictures or anything,” Nick teased. “I’m sure they’ve been too busy to stop and get film developed.”

Diana laughed at her man’s comment, hanging on as he sped up to the middle school that now acted as the reception center. People were still jumping down from the newly arrived semi when the cart came to a stop.

Nick asked one of the volunteers where he could find the driver and soon was approaching a middle-aged man busy helping his former passengers with their belongings.

Extending his hand, the Special Forces alumnus said, “Hi. I’m Nick, and I heard you have a letter for me.”

Cole accepted the offered greeting, looking Nick up and down. “Bishop was right; you are a big guy.”

Diana chimed in, “I bet he said more than that, but that’s not important right now. How’s Terri? How’s the baby doing? How big is Hunter now?”

The rapid-fire question seemed to take Cole aback. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a single sheet of paper. “I didn’t read it,” he said shyly.

Nick and Diana both reached for the letter, Nick being faster. He started to tease Diana, making
as if he was going to turn his back to her and read the note in private. The look on the deacon’s face made him change his mind. Holding it down where they both could see, it read:

Nick and Diana,

We are in New Mexico, and it’s already been one hell of a trip. Terri, Hunter, and I are all well. We think about Alpha and the Alliance every day. We’re sure you’re holding down the fort while we are on vacation.

These new arrivals are good folks. Strong spirits and hearty souls. I’m sure they’ll contribute after settling in.

Terri sends her love to Diana, Kevin, Pete, and Betty… everyone. Hunter grows stronger every day. The boy is growing like a weed. I am gonna have to keep a close watch on my AR10, cause I swear I caught the boy eying it the other day. A chip off the old block, huh? I’m so proud of him.

We are heading north and then west to Utah. We look forward to the day when we can return to the ranch. We miss you guys more than you’ll ever know.

All the best – Bishop, Terri and Hunter

Nick’s throat became tight, but the tough guy wasn’t about to admit it. “Danged rug rat is already after my favorite rifle,” he managed to grumble.

Diana looked up after reading the note, her eyes moist. “Nick, I want them back here with us. Fix this. I don’t care what it takes – you fix this as soon as you can. Hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”   

Chapter 8

New Mexico countryside

July 30

There wasn’t any way around the berg. The two-lane highway they were traveling lead right through the heart of town, and Bishop hadn’t seen a side road or farm lane for the last 15 miles.

He considered going off road for a bit, thinking there had to be a detour, but decided against it. Trespassing, especially these days, might get a man shot – or worse. Even if they could find a backcountry lane, towing the camper cross-country was stupid. The pickup was already low in the back with the weight of their supplies and the burden on the hitch. Busting an axle or being stuck wouldn’t be good.

Bishop glanced at his watch and half nodded. At least the hour was on their side. If you wanted to pass through unnoticed, 4 a.m. was probably good timing.

Letting the truck coast to a stop, he threw the shifter into park and opened the door as quietly as possible. He climbed onto the camper shell, hoping the elevation would provide just a little better view.

Scanning the distant outline of buildings from the perch, his first reaction was surprise at the size of the place. There were far more structures than he expected, especially given the tiny dot that represented Crawford, New Mexico on the map.

The night vision revealed more than a few large rooflines, some appearing to be two or three stories tall with the girth of a sizable high school. After focusing the monocle, the purpose of the largest example became clear – a cross mounted on top of a steeple indicating a church.

Maybe the map is old
, he considered. It occurred to him that Crawford may have experienced a boom during the Second Great Depression.
They would be about the only ones
, he mused.

Bounding down from the perch, he returned to the driver’s seat to think things through.

He glanced in the rearview mirror, confirming Terri and Hunter were both still asleep. He hated to do it, but he was going to have to wake his wife. He needed to scout the town on foot before trying to drive through. He needed to know what was ahead before committing his family and their mobile home.

Sighing loudly, he reached back and gently shook Terri’s knee. She startled awake, her mother-eyes immediately searching for her child. Hunter was snoozing, snug in his car seat.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she finally whispered. “Why are we stopped?”

“There’s a town up ahead, and we can’t go around it. I need to go scout it on foot before we try and pass through.”

“How far is it?”

“About two miles, I think. I didn’t want to approach any closer. There’s no place to pull off this road and hide. I’m going to have to leave you here all exposed.”

Terri rubbed her eyes, nodding her comprehension. “Give me a minute, okay?”

Before long, Bishop was walking down the New Mexico highway with weapon and full kit. He’d decided to take the long-range AR10 rifle because its huge optic allowed for scouting at extended distances. He hated leaving his family and earthly possessions just sitting along the side of the road, but his confidence in Terri eased the concern – somewhat.

The smooth road provided an easy walk, the only stress being the lack of cover provided by the surrounding desert. There wasn’t even a utility pole to hide behind should people appear.
Not much chance of that at zero-dark-thirty
, he thought.

Like most small towns, the first sign of civilization he encountered was actually a sign. “Welcome to Crawford,” the green metal placard announced, “Population 341.”

“Howdy,” Bishop replied, secretly hoping the fine people of Crawford were friendly, or at least still in their beds.

He spied the first structures a short time later. The typical cluster of outbuildings, a gas station, small strip mall and a few homes. It all looked so tiny given the distance – like dollhouses and toys. Everything was completely dark in
Candyland.

The thermal imager showed a grand total of zero hot spots, but he was still too far away for the high-tech device to be trusted. Its range was limited unless the heat signature was large. The light amplification night vision showed no activity.

“I’m just going to saunter into town like I own the place,” he whispered to himself.

Keying the push-to-talk button on his radio, Bishop announced, “Heading into town now. Everything peachy back there?”

The sleep in Terri’s voice carried through the earpiece, “Hunter’s having breakfast. Could you find a little less boring scenery the next time we stop?”

“Someone’s not gotten enough sleep.”

“I’m okay… just looking forward to a mattress.”

“Me, too.”

“Be careful, Bishop. I love you.”

Dogs were the next concern. Canine alarms could awaken the drowsy residents of Crawford, and they might not appreciate having their beauty sleep interrupted by tourists.

The first structure he passed was a house trailer. The mailbox indicated the address but didn’t advertise the resident’s name. There were children’s toys scattered around the yard, an old Buick sitting in the driveway. Bishop scanned the area with the thermal – no heat.

That didn’t necessarily mean the home was empty. Forward-Looking Infrared devices weren’t magic. They couldn’t see through glass or walls. Still, if the mobile home had been occupied, he would have expected some temperature variation.

He continued toward town, the density of buildings increasing as he progressed. The gas station was intact; signs posted on the pumps indicated, “No Gas.”

The three stores in the strip mall appeared untouched, as well. This struck Bishop as odd, given every commercial building he’d seen elsewhere had been looted.
Perhaps the residents of Crawford were calm rioters
, he mused.

He walked up and gazed inside the dry cleaners. The counter, cash register and reception area looked normal, ready to open for business at the advertised hour of 7 a.m. Strolling down the short sidewalk, he checked the “Everything’s a Dollar,” outlet and again found the business mostly intact. The night vision revealed sections of empty shelving, but the wrapping paper, greeting cards and keychain display all appeared untouched.
The food and batteries are all gone
, he considered.
But it was orderly.

The final business in the tiny outlet was “Morton’s Doughnuts.”

“Here we go,” Bishop whispered. “Terri would be thrilled with a dozen chocolate frosted and a steaming cup of coffee.”

Bishop polished a small circle of dust off the window, looking inside at four booths, a retail counter, and glass display case that was empty. Morton’s was undisturbed, even the cash register was where it should be – resting peacefully on the counter.

A rustle sounded behind him. Spinning and raising his rifle in the same motion, Bishop scanned the empty parking lot. Nothing. There wasn’t any breeze, and even the birds weren’t up yet.
Probably a mouse
, he decided.

The next stop on his tour was a trucking company, several dump trucks, semis and other machinery residing in the back lot. The small concrete block offices appeared unmolested. It was as if the body snatchers descended in the middle of the night and peacefully fed on the local population.
No people and a town in pristine condition… now that is something you just don’t see every day,
he mused.

Finally, the local church came into view, the sign out front announcing services began at 9 a.m. Bishop found the doors locked, the parking lot empty. As he scouted around the structure, he was impressed at the size of the compound. Texas was known for its huge houses of worship, some of the organizations in Houston drawing over 10,000 worshipers on Sunday morning. Others were almost a small city unto themselves.

This facility would have been right at home with its big city cousins, and that seemed out of place. Crawford just wasn’t that large, and there definitely wasn’t the surrounding population to support such a monolith operation.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Bishop returned to the problem at hand – passing through town without being noticed.

On the far edge of the village, at the intersection of the last little street, he experienced an “Ah ha!” moment. There was fresh dirt strewn across the pavement, obvious evidence that someone had been recently digging in the soil bordering the sidewalk.

Bishop slowed his pace, creeping closer to what appeared to be a significant excavation. Movement caused him to freeze mid-stride, the 7.62 mm rifle snapping to his shoulder. There was more activity as Bishop flicked off the weapon’s safety, ready to spray lead if a threat appeared.

A small furry head appeared, its neck mimicking Bishop’s, swiveling right and left. When the prairie dog’s eyes focused on the human intruder, it barked twice and disappeared down into what was quite a large town of burrows, tunnels, and dens.

Bishop exhaled, chiding himself for being so edgy. There was one benefit to the encounter however – the spoil-dirt surrounding dog-town was completely void of track or sign. No cars had passed; no human footprints were visible. He pressed on.

Before he knew it, he reached the far side of town. The post office, a small general store, and a café were the only other businesses – all of them looking like the proprietor had closed the previous night without incident or issue.

He stopped walking when he reached the cemetery on the far outskirts. The tombstones reminded him of the awful incident when Deke had been killed. He shuddered at the memory and took special care to scan the plots. Several unmarked graves were present, but none were fresh.

The houses appeared equally undisturbed. If Bishop didn’t know better, it would be easy to visualize himself standing on the main drag of what appeared to be a pre-collapse town. He could almost smell the aroma of fresh coffee brewing to coax the sleepy residents out of bed and begin their daily routines.

But there were a few clues that something wasn’t right about that picture.

The first thing he noticed was the lack of garbage. Every other town he’d visited since the collapse had piles of trash bags in front of the homes. Meraton had been the only exception - until now.

The second oddity was the lack of foot traffic. There was a wood plank sidewalk in front of the café. A layer of dust and sand had collected there for an extended period of time – undisturbed. No one had walked down that portion of the town’s sidewalk for months.

Another indicator was the cobwebs. The post office threshold was thick with the silky threads, as was the doorknob to the general store. It was just spooky. He’d even brushed away a strand while walking down one of the side streets. No one had passed through that section of Crawford for some time.

He hadn’t detected a single heat source in any of the homes. There weren’t any cats or dogs on the prowl. It was as if all the people had simply vanished.

Every window was filthy with windblown sand and grime. There weren’t any bones, human or otherwise, lying around. There wasn’t a hint of wood smoke, or any other odor for that matter. It was as if the people of Crawford had been sucked up by some alien space craft.

Bishop became so involved in solving the mystery, he lost track of time. The pre-dawn glow of the sun in the eastern sky reminded him of the hour and caused him to utter a string of curses. “Damn it,” he whispered, “I wanted to be past this place before the sun came up.”

Reaching for the radio, he keyed the button. “This community is just off-the-scale weird. There’s no one here. It’s kind of ghoulish in a way.”

“Are they all dead?” Terri responded after a pause.

“I don’t think so. I’ve not seen a single bone or body. I don’t think anyone has been here for months. It’s like they all vanished into thin air or something.”

“The whole town?”

“So far. Go ahead and bring the truck up. I’m going to keep poking around. Park at the doughnut shop. I’ll meet you there.”

“Doughnuts?”

“Sorry, babe – it’s closed.”

He could hear Terri’s chuckle through his earpiece. “See ya in a minute.”

Bishop meandered back across town, pausing often to listen, almost hoping he would recognize some sign of human life. Nothing, not a cough, shuffle or whisper. The berg was dead – a complete ghost town.

Terri had already arrived by the time he made it back to the strip mall. Hunter was wide-awake, playing with his mom’s rifle sling as she carried him around the truck to stretch her legs. Relief lined her face when she spotted her husband walking onto the lot.

“Nothing,” he announced. “I don’t think anyone lives here anymore.”

“I can’t believe everyone would be dead in a town this size. There would have to be a few survivors.”

“I agree, but so far they are staying out of sight. I’m thinking we cool our jets right here for a bit, maybe a couple of hours. If no one shows by then, this might be a good place to camp for the day. I know I need some shuteye, and I bet you could use a little rest, too.”

Terri scanned the horizon, a grin crossing her face. “Is there any shopping? Any four-star restaurants?” she teased.

“Not that I noticed, but we can explore again after some rest. Let’s pull the trailer to the back of this building. If we don’t see or hear any activity in a few hours, I’ll set up the camper, and you can catch some Zs.”